


Like a Thief in the Night

by espers770



Category: SPY x FAMILY (Manga)
Genre: "loid forger" is dead, ....the crime is trespassing LMAOOOOOOOOO, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Bad Ending, F/M, Loid is a jerk and he knows it, Lost Love, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, Post-Canon, Yor's POV, just.......feels, loid commits a crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2020-11-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:39:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27735457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/espers770/pseuds/espers770
Summary: Yor sometimes finds herself awoken by an intruder sneaking into her room at night. They always don a different disguise, but deep beneath is a familiar face. The face of both her husband and his killer.Each visit only brings her emotional pain, but when faced with the permanence of their unspoken farewell Yor finds herself unable maintain her anger
Relationships: Loid Forger | Twilight/Yor Briar Forger | Thorn Princess
Comments: 14
Kudos: 51





	Like a Thief in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm working on fluff right now and I uhhhhhhh was going through angst withdrawals??? I whipped up this quick drabble because I was slightly inspired by 505 by Arctic Monkeys (specifically the lyric 'It seems like once again you've had to greet me with goodbye')
> 
> Sorry it's short and a teensy bit (who am I kidding, HUGELY) underdeveloped.

This time it’s a woman that steals through Yor’s bedroom window. Her long blonde hair matches her height well, with those proportions she could be a model. Her lashes are unnaturally long and plentiful. The strangers lips are stained a deep red. Even her face shape is pleasant, though her jawline is just a tad sharp.

“You’ve outdone yourself today,” her intruder startles as she turns her face to look them in the eye, ”much more and I won’t recognize you.” 

“I’m sorry,” is the dejected expression on her face even real? “I wanted to see you.” 

She reaches up to her hairline, even her hands are large, scarred, and masculine. The wig is ripped off with ease, the platinum blond revealing a much more comforting shade. 

“You could do better than stealing into my bedroom like a criminal.” Yor pauses while the night thief strips off their trench coat and black heels. Underneath they’re wearing a simple dress shirt and black slacks, of course something standard, easy to blend into a crowd with. “Loid.” 

He stops and lifts his head, it still amazes her how he can shift his posture so dramatically. He’s taller now, shoulders broader and arms much more muscular. Beneath the heavy makeup she can see his eyes soften and lips tighten into a thin line. As ashamed as she is Yor wants to laugh, a full grown man in such sultry makeup? Not just some man, her former husband? She holds back, it’s not appropriate. 

“You haven’t called me that in awhile.” She can hear his voice catching in his throat. Ever since his last visit some half a year ago he had become lousy at controlling his emotions around her. Perhaps he no longer cared to maintain a facade around a jaded and useless woman. It was a wonder he had lasted so many years. “And I am a criminal.” 

He opens a pocket in his discarded coat, revealing a cloth and some sort of spray. Quickly and professionally he dabs it on his face, washing away that disgustingly beautiful mug and revealing her dead husband underneath. 

He looks the same. If she ignored the crows feet multiplying at the corners of his eyes, forced a smile, and squinted away the sadness she could still see Loid Forger. His piercing blue glare is unchanged, it doesn’t matter that he’s older now, more burdened by stress. Without makeup his eye-bags are evident, whatever kept him away from her was surely doing its job properly. Ever so charming, so handsome. 

It made her want to cry so badly. 

“Did my saying that name make you nostalgic,” she scoffs so loudly, her voice is filled with malice. Yor didn’t mean for it to come out that way, she too is disappointed with her attachment to that face. He flinches. “Lucky me, I was about to forget what my husband looked like.” 

He doesn’t reply, of course not he doesn’t have a right to. Yor knows it’s cruel, Yor knows it’s unfair to him, but it just hurts so much. This small sting couldn’t compare to the smallest corner of everything she’s felt. 

Typical. He ignores the uncomfortable conversation and moves on. Only hearing what he wants to hear is a specialty of his lately. 

“How’s Anya?” 

His voice is quieter, like there’s some sort of affection hidden deep beneath all his deceit. 

“Oh? What if I told you I sent her away?”

Yor had really become such an amazing actress. Meeting with this man too many times to be justifiable forced her to grow accustomed to donning a blank expression. It was a merciless turn of fate that she had to become like him to deal with him. 

The way his shoulders stiffen and jaw tense are just as she intended. This damn man had no right to feel pain over a girl he abandoned. He had no right to pretend to care for her after ignoring her for years now. 

“What business does a stranger have with my daughter?” 

That shuts him up. 

He’s so pitiful in the moonlight. The man before her stands so tall and exudes so much power. From his toes to his chin he never makes one mistake, his stance is wide and braced for an escape at a moments notice. Bent arms adjust a watch on his wrist, the glare from the glass face illuminates his stubborn mouth slightly. Her intruder is impeccable up until she sees the light on his lips. He’s frowning deeply, not that slight pout he always wears now that he’s killed Loid Forger. For a ghost of a man he’s too damn emotional. 

“She’s fine.” 

What compelled her to take pity on him she did not know. Yor swore to herself every night she would abandon all thoughts of this man. Yet every visit she longed for a genuine conversation, just one touch if she were feeling greedy. 

It was no longer love, in fact the man before her was never who she had fallen for. Yor fell for the dedicated doctor, the handsome family man who would drop everything to help his wife and daughter. 

Most of all she fell for the warmth in his touches. 

The way his fingers used to rub circles into her back as he guided her across the street, or watched over her shoulder while she cleaned. Each quirk of his lips as he stared deeply into her eyes while clasping her hands tightly in his. Her husband gently kissed her forehead or cheek when in public and with passion when they were alone. 

Yor knew very well she wasn’t completely innocent, she had been dishonest, roping some random man into a marriage both parties only needed for work. At least she had always been true to her feelings. 

It's quiet as she lifts her body into a sitting position. The night air from the window he left open chills her to the bone. Goose flesh raises on her arms and a shiver makes its way down her spine. 

In her moments of reminiscence he’s left his position at the foot of her bed. His broad back is hunched over some sort of box, shuffling through its contents. The floorboard it was hidden under strewn to the side of him. 

From out of the dusty old shoe box he pulls a blazer, documents stained with a dried crust of reddish brown she doesn’t care to ask about, a package of letters, and some sort of mechanical device. 

He gathers the items in his hands and stands up. The mechanical device gets unceremoniously tossed underneath the heel of his shoe and is stomped to bits in seconds. Yor isn’t curious, she no longer has any desire to involve herself in this part of his life. He takes the coat and shakes it violently, allowing a cloud of dust to gather around him like a mysterious fog. It’s thick and takes many abrupt tosses to remove the filth to his satisfaction. It only serves to make her wonder how long he had been keeping it there, or how long he had initially planned to. 

“Will you come back?” Nothing can stop the word vomit from escaping her lips. She didn’t intend to do this today, she didn’t intend to show him she cared ever. 

Yor knows the answer even before he replies. 

Pulling on the new coat he grabbed from underneath her floorboards and stuffing a few documents into his pockets he smiles. 

So many years of fake smiles prepared her for this moment. Loid Forger sometimes showed her his real emotions. They were limited moments but he always softened his trained smile to a loving grin around children. When he looked at her at first he always seemed so forced, just like now. 

He’s such a terrible liar right when it matters most. 

She must have shown her reaction on her face because he drops his grin not even a second after. 

“I will.”

The shallow words eat up the comfortable silence. Yor was perfectly fine without having to hear it. He sure lived to torture her even after all of these years. 

“Since when did you keep stuff here.” It’s all just some stupid attempt to keep him within her reach, as well as a feeble attempt to keep her tears from spilling and creating a mess larger than the predicament they were in already was. 

The shine in her eyes blurs his hardened edges away. The tears wash off his hopeless expression and myriad of scars, physical and invisible. 

“Sometimes you’re asleep when I visit.” He meets her eyes, blue staring deep into the dull red of her’s. “I don’t want to disturb you more than I already do.”

He is fixing his mask again, no more emotions for Yor to observe. He’s stone cold and unfamiliar, even with the face of her long gone lover. The man in front of her looks almost sickly, though still strong. The proper word might be dejected. 

“You’re right, you are a fucking nuisance.” Yor never swears, he used to chuckle when she did, all those years ago when they were a perfect couple. The sob she lets out while ending her sentence ruins it. 

He doesn’t make a move to comfort her, he doesn’t even shift in her direction. The only movement he makes is to pull on black loafers he must have been carrying around or hidden in her room somewhere. There was so much she wanted to bring up, so much she wanted to ask him, but for the sake of her heart it was better left unsaid. 

He drops the stack of letters at the foot board of her bed. “You might want to burn these,” slowly Loid gestures to the rest of her room, “and anything else you find.” 

It’s evident from the professionalism in his voice that he doesn’t intend to apologize for burdening her with his cleanup, or accept the burden of her emotions. He’s already walking to her window again, the cold air is still brushing painfully against her bare skin. His disguise is regrettably perfect, his face was his own, one that only she and its owner could recognize. 

Seeing this sight only made the permanence set in even further. 

He hoists himself onto the window frame with one leg. She couldn’t help but expect some sort of hesitation, even some words of parting or a wave. But he never meant to satisfy her anyway. 

A man that is not her husband drops wordlessly from her two story window. 

And Yor can’t even bring herself to cry. 


End file.
